


wishing is a game of fools -

by alvaughn



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, small amounts of smut, very brief mentions of self harm nothing is really delved into there but theyre There
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 05:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4007791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alvaughn/pseuds/alvaughn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Tyler, what are you doing?” </p>
<p>“I don’t know,” He says, just like he’d said to Jenna, just like he’d said to Mark, just like he’d said to his mother. “I don’t know, but I know that I’ve missed you more than anything in the entire fucking world, Josh. I’ve spent months crying over you, spent months torturing myself over how I hurt you, spent months wondering if you were okay. Nobody would talk to me about you, even when I started to ask. They brushed me off, they told me that you were okay and nothing else. That killed me, Josh,"</p>
            </blockquote>





	wishing is a game of fools -

**Author's Note:**

> ok so i was kinda? broken up with recently & i needed to write something to get all of this ... shit out of my system. so here's this. it's messy, and it doesn't really make sense but i needed to write Something so here it is. 
> 
> this is unbeta'd because i have no friends, so if you ever want to beta for me or if you ever Need someone to beta for you feel free to reach out to me on twitter @ HEARTBEATlNG
> 
> title from oil and water by LIGHTS

 “Nothing is the same forever,” He mutters it, words flowing into the empty room like water flowing through a faucet. There’s a silence, there always is, and neither of them look at each other. They don’t need to - don’t need to because they both know that it’s over, that it’s done, that there’s nothing left they can do to try to revive it.

He wishes he could. _I wish I could fix this, I wish I could fix this, I wish I could fix this,_ he promises into the static of his own mind, but that’s never been enough. He thinks that maybe it was just him, as an entire being, that was never enough. He never really has been enough - never for their fans, never for his family, never for _Josh_. He’s always been the minimum of who he should be, because he never knows what’ll happen if he exposes himself anymore. _There is so much more,_ he thinks, _there is so much more to him than what he says. Than what he screams into the microphone each night. Than what he whispers to Josh when he knows that everyone else is asleep in their bunks but they aren’t, they’re curled around each other and whispering because they know that no matter what, the darkness that’s consuming both of them is sidelined whenever they’ve got each other._

“No one said it would be this hard,” He says, voice breaking as he speaks, betraying this cool demeanor he’s been trying to pass off to Josh. He knew it wouldn’t work, knew that Josh could read him like an open book, but that didn’t stop him from trying. Nothing’s ever stopped him from trying, and maybe that’s why he’s been holding on so long.

“Maybe they never knew,” Josh says, voice gentle and it ricochets across Tyler’s chest, rippling beneath his skin like how a lake does when a rock is skipped across it.

“We never knew,”

“Didn’t we?” The corner of Josh’s lips turn up in a smile, and it’s sad, and Tyler has to restrain everything within him so he doesn’t reach out and kiss it from Josh’s lips, doesn’t reach out at all. He doesn’t, and he can’t. His mind is screaming at him that _Josh is right, Josh is right, Josh is right_ ; they knew from the start that it would fall apart. They were perfect for each other, but that never guaranteed them to last. Between the two of them, it was doomed to fail - Tyler knows that, knew that from day one, but that didn’t stop him from diving head first into Josh Dun. “I should go,” Josh finally says, and Tyler stares at him now, hard and cold.

He would give anything for Josh to not leave. Would give anything to drag Josh to his bedroom, tear away all of his clothes, dig his nails into his skin, and love Josh - give him all of the love that Tyler had in his entire fucking body - for one last time. Or, maybe not, maybe that would be what saved them. Tyler couldn’t do that, though, because Josh was already close to him, pressing a kiss against the corner of Tyler’s mouth, disappearing behind a slamming door before Tyler could even say anything else. Nothing happens for a few moments, nothing happens because everything is still processing through Tyler, everything is still washing over him and soaking into his bones and burning into his core and crawling into his heart. He’s still, he’s calm, and he’s quiet. It’s just the calm before the storm. Minutes pass but feel like hours, time crawls on and Tyler doesn’t move from his position because if he does, then it’s real, and this can’t be real. Josh can’t be leaving him, Josh can’t be gone, he thinks, because Josh was everything to him and if that’s gone, then Tyler might as well be too.

Once it’s in Tyler, once it has given him no room to breathe or no room to think, that’s when he comes to terms with it. By coming to terms with it, he drags his feet across the floor until he reaches his bedroom, and he drags his feet across the floor until he’s falling face first into his bed. He doesn’t move his face from his pillow, even when he starts to feel like he’s suffocating, not until the last possible moment before he passes out or, hopefully, just fucking dies. He stares at the wall, watches through his bedroom window as day slowly drags back into itself and lets the night consume it, and though he knows it leaves with the promise of return, Tyler’s not sure he can trust it.

He stares, and stares, and stares at the wall until he can’t anymore, until his body tells him that he either needs to close his eyes or he needs to get out of bed and do something. Tyler knows that he won’t be able to sleep - he wouldn’t really want to, anyways, because all of his dreams would be _Josh Josh Josh_ , and he’s not quite sure he can deal with that right now - so he rolls himself over until he’s too close to the end of the bed, and there’s the danger of falling onto the floor. He maneuvers himself until his feet are below him, and his body is in an upright position, and he doesn’t move for a long while - just lets his blood rush through his veins and pound a deafening beat into his ears. After a while, he’s back to dragging his feet, and he’s not quite sure where he’s going until he finds himself in front of his keyboard, finds himself with music about Josh in front of him, finds himself feeling like screaming for years upon years upon fucking years about how much this fucking _hurts_.

He does that, not for years and years, but he screams and slams his fingers on his keyboard so hard that they almost start bleeding from the insane amount of pressure, and he does what he does best. He does what Josh always praised him for, he does what his mother never really understood, he does what he’s always prided himself for. He does it for what feels like ever - while maybe, in reality, it’s only a few hours - until his fingers physically cannot take it, until his throat is scratch and feels worn to shit, until he can’t speak anymore because the hoarseness has consumed his voice, and it feels no more okay than it did when Josh first told him that it was over.

He didn’t understand then, and he doesn’t understand now, and maybe that’s why. Maybe it’s because while Josh could understand Tyler, read him like an open book; Tyler, in return, never really got Josh. He understood the build, he understood the skeleton, he understood the muscle, but he never really got the brains. To Josh, Tyler was as transparent as the grass was green, but to Tyler, Josh was always the chest he never could find the correct key to. He wanted to understand Josh, don’t get him wrong, but Tyler could never get out of his own head long enough to do that - could never find the time, or the energy, to sit down and study Josh, and maybe that was the problem. Maybe that was the solution. Maybe Tyler could fix this.

He doesn’t try to - he can’t, not now at least - but he does try to bring himself back to something that’ll keep him grounded. It takes him forever to find his phone, mostly because it takes energy that has long since been drained out of Tyler, but when he does, he ignores the fact that he’s only been six hours - six hours, wow - and he’s got more missed messages than he thought was possible. He doesn’t bother listening to voicemails, doesn’t bother reading texts, doesn’t bother with the fact that the news traveled across the grapevine faster than he could breathe - he only knows this, because there’s a text from Mark that’s dated just after when Tyler assumes Josh had left his house, so he must’ve been the first to know.

He scrolls through his contacts until he finds Jenna’s name - it’s right above Josh’s, and he tries, _so so so_ fucking hard not to focus on that fact - and she picks up on the second ring.

“Tyler?” She sounds worried, and doubt swirls in the pit of Tyler’s stomach. He hadn’t meant to worry her, he thinks calling her was a mistake. “Tyler, are you there? Are you okay?” It’s a loaded question, because she means them in more ways than one, and he doesn’t really know how to answer them.

“Hi,” He says, and he can hear her breathe out the anxiety building in her chest like a dog can hear a whistle.

“Hey,” She says in response, and there’s silence for a few long minutes before Tyler clears his throat, swallows thick again, and speaks.

“Are you busy?” Jenna says no what feels like a million times, and Tyler wants her to shut up because warning signals are going off in his brain and he wants everything to just _be quiet be quiet be quiet_. He needs her, though. He needs her more than he needs air, because behind Josh, she is his best friend in the entire world, in the entire universe, and if he can’t fix it, and he doesn’t have Josh to fix it, he needs her to at least try. “Can you come over?”

“Yes,” She responds quick, and Tyler can hear the movement of her grabbing her car keys and her purse and the door slamming behind her and the alarm of her car as she unlocks it. “Do you need me to stay on the phone with you while I drive over there?” She asks, and Tyler swallows thick because he registers that this situation that he’s in must feel like an emergency; like how operators ask if they need to stay on the line with whoever had called in asking for immediate help.

“Yeah,” Tyler says, though he knows that a majority of the call would be dead air unless Jenna filled it herself. “If you don’t mind,”

“Of course not,” She says, and Tyler winces at the sound of her car door slamming. She mutters something about needing a moment, and then there’s muffled sounds momentarily of her car starting up and her situating herself before she returns and there’s the cool hum of the engine and the road and everything that Tyler needs to hear right now to calm his mind from screaming.

“Tell me about your day,” Tyler says, and as he does, he sinks to the floor, lets his back rest against the back of the couch because, somehow, that’s where he’d found himself. Jenna speaks, and speaks, and speaks, and Tyler’s pretty sure that at one point her talking transitions from how her day was to what was happening on her favorite television show and that some of her favorite new artists were going to be dropping new music soon and just anything she could talk about that Tyler hadn’t gotten the chance to hear otherwise.

He doesn’t even realize that so much time had passed before Jenna’s telling him that she’s outside of his door and forgot her key so she needs to be let in, and Tyler says okay and gets himself from the floor and manages his way over toward the front door and once he sees her standing there, blonde hair pushed behind her ears and black hoodie hanging over her hands and her favorite pair of jeans, he hangs up and she lets herself in as he drags himself to the couch. He sits, and she joins him soon after, and he notices that she’s dropped her purse and taken her shoes off, and they don’t say much now, but Jenna wraps her arms around Tyler and forces his body to face hers so she can comfortably tuck him against her skin and that’s the moment Tyler lets himself cry.

He cries because it’s over, and he cries because he already misses Josh and the sadness has already buried itself deep in his bones and his twisted itself across his skin, and he cries because Jenna is his best friend and she is trying to comfort him but he can’t be comforted, nor does he really want to be, because the love of his life just broke his heart and walked away with the promise that, ‘ _When this is all over, when it doesn’t hurt as bad, we’ll be friends again and it’ll be okay,_ ’ and it won’t be, Tyler knows, it’ll never be okay. Not as long as he knows that once he was in love with Josh, and Josh was in love with him, and it fell apart underneath them like Tyler feels like his world is doing right now. Josh was the sun, and Jenna is the stars, and now Tyler’s life can only be illuminated by her brightness which is trying it’s hardest to shine, but it just feels like he’s being consumed by the darkness of his mind, and _fuck fuck fuck_ , he swears against her skin, he loved Josh so much.

Jenna soothes him, runs her fingers through his hair like Josh used to, flattens her palm against the small of his back and rubs small circles there like Josh used to, does everything like Josh used to, because Josh used to do everything for Tyler. He’s disgusted by the thought that he can’t even let his best friend try to help him without thinking of Josh, and he vocalizes that, and he finds the slightest bit of serenity in the way Jenna shakes against him when she gives him an all too fake laugh and tells him that it’ll be a long while before he stops thinking about Josh like that. He tells her that it fucking sucks - that what she tells him sucks to hear, that what he feels sucks to feel - and it hurts so bad, because it does, it aches right down to his core. She knows, she says, _she knows she knows she knows_ , and Tyler is sure that she does, but right now, it sure doesn’t feel like she knows. She knows that, too, apparently, and Tyler bites that she must know everything, and Jenna says she does, and he doesn’t doubt her.

Tyler cries until he’s got nothing left in him, until it feels like he’s cried enough to fill an entire ocean over twice, until it feels like the aching in his chest fades even just a bit. He stays put with his face in the crook of Jenna’s neck long after, though, with his hands pressed flat against her back, and she lets him, still draws soothing shapes across his skin and still holds him like he’s the last thing on Earth she’ll ever touch, and Tyler is so thankful for her. He tells her that, mouthing the words against her skin, and he can feel her just nod, hair brushing the back of his neck as she does so. She must know that, too.

He drags himself away from her after what feels like an eternity, and Jenna leaves his side momentarily with the promise to return with water and something to put into his stomach because there’s no way he should be going on after all of that without something in his system. Tyler doesn’t want to say that he feels like vomiting at even the thought of putting something in his stomach right now, just lets Jenna do her thing because he knows that in the long run, she knows what’s best for him right now. She does return, when Tyler’s eyes are heavy and his body feels like completely shutting itself down, and she makes him drink the too-cold water and eat the too-warm poptarts (she also tells him that she needs to take him grocery shopping soon, when he gets better, because there’s no way that a man in his twenties really needs to be eating like that, no matter what movies say). She gets him from the couch and to his bed, strips him of the clothes that feel too heavy on his skin, gets him into the sheets that still smell like Josh. He cries again at that, rejuvenated by the new water intake it seems, and Jenna curls around him like a cat, lets him cry into her chest again.

Somewhere between him emptying his soul into Jenna’s skin and the deafening silence that consumed the room when Tyler wasn’t completely sobbing and heaving for breath, he’s dragged into the abyss of sleep. For the first time in what seems like forever, there are no nightmares, there are no monsters, it’s just Tyler and the dark, dreary blackness that always lingers in the pit of his chest. It’s wrong, it’s _so so so wrong_ , and it feels _so so so much worse_ than a nightmare ever could, and he wakes up gasping for air because he needs it, he needs something to drag him away from the darkness of his mind. Jenna’s beside him still, staring at him with sleep heavy yet wide eyes, voicing concern that Tyler can’t quite make out because his mind is screaming at him.

“Tyler, Tyler, Tyler, Tyler,” Jenna says his name until the panic has settled into his skin and he can breathe again, and her fingers press warmly against his wrist, and Tyler stares, wide-eyed at her as she pushes him back down into the sheets and tells him that _it’s okay, he’s okay, it’ll be okay_. It won’t. They both know.

The room settles in silence again, only to be filled by the soft sounds of Jenna sleeping after a long while, and Tyler’s too restless to sleep. He’s too beyond it that his body rejects just the idea of it, and he accepts that, sits in silence and stares at the ceiling. All he can think is that, if this is day one, then it can only get so much worse.

+

He’s right. He hasn’t even scraped the bottom of the barrel by the end of week one - he’s keeping track, and he’s not sure why. After day four, they all blur into one long day that just wash through his fingers like water he can’t keep a hold of in his palms no matter how hard he tries. Jenna stays with him, takes personal days, takes vacation days, takes any and every opportunity to miss work so she can make sure that Tyler is okay. He knows that her worst fear for him is that he would harm himself within an inch of death, but right now, he feels too empty and too sad to even think about that. He’s sure those thoughts will return at some point, consume his mind as they did when he was a teenage and not even in love, just looking for a reason to keep moving in the morning. She does have to go back to work, eventually, and when she does, Tyler’s mom starts to show up and take care of him, of the house, of everything that Tyler just cannot manage himself to care about.

His mother tries to get him to do something, to get him to do anything other than moping around the house, and so does Jenna when she returns back to his apartment after work. He can’t, though, because everything he does reminds him of Josh. Hell, even moving reminds him of the fact that Josh isn’t there anymore, reminds him that Josh will no longer be there when Tyler needs him to be, and that brings him right back to his bed from whatever he had been doing. He can’t do much, or really anything at all, and though he knows that they understand, he can’t help himself but feel guilty because they’re trying and he isn’t. He can’t.

Tyler breathes out hard, watches as Jenna pushes the cupboard she’d been putting plates away into shut a bit, and grimaces as her face scrunches up a bit. “Do you need anything?” She asks, voice gentle, and Tyler shakes his head, because what he needs she can’t give him. She nods, returning to what she was doing, and Tyler lets his head loll back onto the back of the couch - because that’s really as far as he’s made it so far today, and it’s almost eight pm - as his mind continues to replay every image and thought of Josh it can conjure. It’s hell to go through; a fresh, white hot sting of pain at every image behind his eyelids, but his mind is too clouded with Josh for him to think of anything else.

He must have been there for awhile, because Jenna’s nudging his thigh and shoving a plate of pizza rolls in his lap along with a Yoohoo and telling him to eat before she has to call his brother and tell him that he needs to talk some sense into him. He knows that it’s an empty threat, and Tyler really isn’t all too opposed to the idea of having his brother around because at least then there’s another person to ridicule Tyler for feeling as pathetic as he is. He does eat, though, gets a good majority of the entire bag of pizza rolls Jenna had cooked for him into his system, and half of the Yoohoo bottle, and when he drags himself to the bathroom later with a towel and a pair of fresh underwear, he doesn’t really feel like throwing up his food. It’s a definite plus, at least in Jenna’s book when he tells her later on that night as he lays with his head in her lap.

Tyler’s in neutral territory for a few days, the insistent pull of death loosens it’s grip, and he starts to feel just a smidgen okay, but it really is just the calm before the storm.

+

It gets worse before it gets better. Tyler knows this, because it’s the beginning of week three, and he’s been staring at the razer blade on the countertop for fifteen minutes wondering if he has enough time before Jenna gets back from picking up take out to do any real damage to himself. It’ll all be real damage, but he wants the kind that he won’t recover from. He doesn’t have enough time, though, because as soon as the thought passes through his mind, the front door opens and Jenna’s calling for his help.

He’s been okay lately - or at least, his facade that he puts on in front of Jenna has been okay. As much as he loves Jenna, her time looming over Tyler has taken it’s toll on him, and maybe, Tyler thinks, this is why Josh left. Maybe Tyler spent too much of his time trying to fix every little thing and not focusing enough on the big picture that maybe Josh was being swallowed alive by his demons, just like Tyler was. He goes to Jenna, though, brushes the razer blade into the cabinet drawer and puts on his most worn-down smile, entering the living room again and entertaining her for as long as he could before it got to him again, made his entire body shake and he had to find his way back to the comforts of his bed.

He still has yet to change his sheets - insisted that his mother nor Jenna did either - because they still smell like Josh; though now, they smell like Jenna too, and Tyler can live with that. He still dreams of nothing - it’s like Josh had sucked it from him when he’d left, or maybe Tyler’s mind is just protecting him from the worst to come. He breathes in Josh’s smell at night, lets the sharp pain that still cuts through his chest like a knife drag him to sleep.

When he wakes in the morning, Jenna is gone but his phone is buzzing, and it’s Mark. It’s been three weeks, and Tyler had been avoiding Mark like the plague because he knew that Mark would have questions and things to say and Mark would just unpack everything in Tyler’s mind that he spent the past three weeks bundling up so quick that Tyler would get whiplash from it. It buzzes until his phone finally sends the call to voicemail, and Tyler’s eyes don’t move from his phone because it begins buzzing again and Mark’s name reads clear across the screen. He doesn’t know why, but Tyler takes a deep breath and picks it up, letting the silence between the lines soak into his skin before Mark asks, “Hello? Tyler?”

Tyler bites his tongue for a moment, debates hanging up and tossing his phone across the room for Jenna to find and deal with when she returned later that night. “Hey,” He finally says, and he can hear Mark let out an exasperated noise, one that’s got excitement mixed with confusion. It’s a sound Tyler decides on the spot that he hates.

“Hey, man, I hadn’t heard from you in awhile, I just wanted to check it. Jenna said that things have been kind of rough,”

“Yeah,” is Tyler’s reply, but Mark skims over it, continuing to talk as if Tyler wanted to hear his voice. He grimaces at his own bitter, disgustingly mean thoughts, trying to focus on what Mark is saying.

“I’m really sorry about everything, man. I really thought you guys would be together forever, honestly. I mean, I knew Josh was kind of unhappy there for awhile, but I didn’t know he was that unhappy,” It feels like a knife is being twisted in Tyler’s chest, and his mind mutes everything else Mark says as it repeats those few sentences.

“You knew?” Tyler interrupted after a moment, and Mark abruptly goes silent. “What do you mean you knew?”

Mark doesn’t say anything for a few long moments, but eventually he breathes out an awkward laugh, and Tyler can imagine that he’s rubbing at the back of his neck uncomfortably. “You couldn’t see it? I mean, Tyler,” He says, and that builds a rage in Tyler’s chest, one that he’s never felt before, and he’s dealt with demons who have tried to rip him apart from the inside of his chest before.

“What? What couldn’t I see?”

“Tyler, dude,” Mark says, shrinking in on himself. “He had been so closed off for awhile, so cold to you. You couldn’t see that he was unhappy?”

“No,” Tyler says, because _fuck’s sake_ , if he could’ve, they wouldn’t be in this position. “No _, no no no_ ,” He says, and it sounds more panicked now, and he’s saying no with every breath he takes and Mark is trying to apologize, trying to calm him down, but Tyler was too blind to see that Josh was unhappy, and this was all his fault. Tyler ends the call, drops his phone, and it gets worse. The dam breaks, and his chest becomes tight, and _he didn’t see it_. Everyone saw it - it’s obvious, because if Mark could see it, then everyone else could too - but Tyler _didn’t_. Josh was unhappy, and Tyler let him be for months, probably, because he can’t take a moment to focus on anyone but himself for a fucking minute.

He’s breathless in the worst way possible as he makes his way towards the bathroom, kneels on the tile and lets his forehead press against the cool floor as he gasps for air that doesn’t seem to come. His first thought is of Josh, because _how could he have been so blind, how could he have let this happen to him, how could he have done this to **Josh** of all people._ Tyler is shaking when the bathroom door opens and Jenna appears, face immediately dropping as she does, pulling Tyler into her arms along the way. He knows she’s speaking to him, can catch mutters of _‘he’s such an asshole’_ and _‘it’s okay, Tyler, it’s okay’_ , but he can’t really comprehend it. Doesn’t really want to.

They sit, Tyler pooled in Jenna’s lap, for a long while until Tyler can’t really feel his ass from how numb it is and he thinks that Jenna probably can’t feel hers, either, so he pulls away from her and stands, pulls her onto her feet, and lets her leave. He doesn’t follow for a few long moments, lets the cool air from the living room drift into the bathroom and flush itself against his skin, lets the cool tone of Jenna’s hushed voice drift over him as she reassures his mother that he’s alright. He isn’t, the three of them know, and that makes him turn around and throw up into the sink.

+

It’s week four - or maybe week five or six or seven, Tyler’s lost track of it at this point - and Tyler’s pretty sure he hasn’t left his bed in days. He doesn’t really know, because he’d drawn the blinds closed after the sun infiltrated his room the morning after Mark’s call and let himself drown in the sheets of his bed. Jenna has bothered him in awhile, which he’s thankful for, because he’s not sure if he could take another one of her worried _“Do you need anything?”_ ’s. It’s nothing against her, but Tyler’s world is on the process of caving in on itself and he wants it to be as peaceful as possible.

Rolling onto his back, Tyler swallows thick and stares at the ceiling fan which swirls too quickly for him to keep his eyes specifically on one place. It hurts his head, but also silences his mind for a few minutes, so overall, he can deal with it. It isn’t until he hears voices speaking outside of his bedroom - there’s Jenna’s, and someone else’s that’s too hushed for Tyler to hear. For a moment, he thinks of getting up and listening in but quickly chastised himself, thinking of times his mother always got onto him for it. Then again, it is his home and he has a right to know who Jenna is inviting in without his permission.

It takes a good portion of his energy to even sit up in bed, so it’s a challenge for him to get from point A - the bed - to point B - the bedroom door - but he does it. When he gets closer, he realizes that the other voice is Mark, and something within him burns in his chest intensely. He doesn’t want to be mad at Mark, knows that he has no real reason to be because all he had done was point out the truth that Josh had been unhappy, and Tyler had just taken it and freaked the fuck out over it. That still doesn’t really stop the anxious, tired, warm heat from building in his chest, suffocating him. It sounds like they’re standing right outside of Tyler’s room, talking in hushed voices about how Jenna will _“go in, grab some things, and be right out-,”_ Tyler pulls the door open at that moment, causing both of them to pause as they stared at him.

“You’re awake,” Jenna spoke first, and Tyler nodded, staring at her for a moment. Mark seemed to shrink at Tyler’s presence, and some sick portion of him thought that was good - Mark should be afraid of Tyler, should be ashamed of what he did. He shouldn’t be, Tyler should be the one who’s sorry here, but nevertheless.

“What are you doing here?” Tyler asked, finally catching sight of the box in Mark’s hands. Tyler stared it down as Mark tightened his grip on the edge of the box, feeling a warm heat spread across his cheeks as he realized what was inside of the box. “Is that Josh’s stuff?”

“Tyler,” Jenna said, voice light despite the heavy look in her eyes. “Why don’t you go lay down, we’ll talk about this another time,” She said, reaching out for him. Tyler grimaced away from her touch, a look of hurt spread across his face as he glanced between the two of them.

“Did he send you here? To get that?” He asked Mark, though he wasn’t really sure he wanted an answer to the question. Mark glanced at Tyler anxiously, before nodding quickly.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were asleep - Josh, he’s going back to LA for awhile, and he needed some of his stuff,” He said, and Tyler bit his tongue because of course Josh was going back to LA. He’s surprised he hadn’t already, it had been at least a month - well, as far as Tyler knew, but it was probably more - but Tyler couldn’t wrap his head around why now. Why Josh was sending Mark to grab his stuff now, why Josh wasn’t getting it himself. He knew why Josh sent Mark, Josh probably couldn’t even look Tyler in the eye if he tried, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Tyler, he doesn’t have to grab it now,” Jenna said, giving Mark a glare as he went to open his mouth. He was silenced quickly by it, and Tyler wanted to put up a fight - he truly, truly did; he wanted Mark to know that he didn’t want Josh’s stuff gone, that he didn’t want the last pieces of Josh that he had in his life right now gone - but instead, he let his shoulders slump forward. Stepping aside, Tyler opened the door and let Mark enter the room, put the box on the bed, and begin looking around for the things that belonged to Josh. Jenna gave Tyler a glance as he pushed past her, but he didn’t mind her at all, pushing himself to make his way towards the bathroom.

The sound of the lock clicking into place on the bathroom door could’ve been compared to angels singing in Tyler’s mind, and he absentmindedly opened the drawer. He doesn’t even focus on his movements, lets his brain mute itself as his fingers glide across the blade. He hisses at the sensation, watches as the blood rushes to where his skin is now open. The first cut was always the worst, but he was far beyond the first cut.

+

Tyler doesn’t keep track of weeks anymore. He doesn’t care whether it’s been six weeks, four months, or a year. He doesn’t care that Jenna has practically moved in - all of her clothes, her morning essentials, everything she needs on a daily basis ends up in Tyler’s place, and he can’t find it within himself to wonder why. (He knows why - it’s been however long, and she’s still there, she’s still worried about him. Tyler has a dangerous streak, has a thing for being okay for so long before he finally snaps. He thinks Jenna’s waiting for him to snap.)

They never sleep in the same bed except on nights where Tyler can feel the loneliness burrow itself into the deepest pits of his soul, can feel the sadness drip inside of his bones. He can’t sleep in the same bed as anyone else for any prolonged period of time because then it feels like he’s replacing Josh, and he can’t do that. No matter how much he fucked up, he can’t replace Josh. The look Jenna gives him when he explains this to her tells him that one day he’ll have to, one day he’ll have to move on from Josh or it’ll kill him, but he knows that it already has.

Tyler doesn’t keep track anymore, because he can’t. He doesn’t know that it’s been three weeks since Mark had moved Josh’s stuff out of his apartment; he doesn’t know that it’s been two weeks since he’d last picked up a call from his mother, from his father, from his brother; he doesn’t know it’s been a week since he’d even thought about checking Twitter. He’d been keeping up with it for the most part - mostly through Jenna’s doing, to see if Josh was going to say or do anything - but eventually he’d tired himself of it. He’d tired himself of waiting for something, for anything. The last time he’d posted had been months ago - less than a week before Josh had ended things with him, and ironic, it had even been a tweet about how much he admired Josh - and it wasn’t normal for him to fall off the earth for more than a week or so at a time. He knew people were already freaking out about it, but he couldn’t get online yet - he couldn’t face the insistent questions of _where he’d been, where Josh had been, if he was okay, if they were okay._

It’s been so long since Tyler has done anything he finds semi-enjoyable, been so long since he’d even left the house, so when Jenna throws clean clothes at him and tells him to find a nice pair of shoes because they’re going out for the day, he doesn’t question it. She seems surprised when he actually dresses himself, actually follows her to the car, actually walks into Taco Bell with her. It makes him feel sick, how much he’s reminded of Josh by every little thing both about the food joint and about Columbus in general. He doesn’t tell Jenna, only orders a burrito and sits himself across from her in the booth she chooses. He picks at it, bothers with half of it before giving up because the ache in his chest spreads, and everything suddenly becomes too heavy. From the clothes covering his skin to the air in the restaurant, it’s all too much for him to handle. Jenna seems to get the hint - she’s taken to reading Tyler in an almost similar fashion Josh had been able to - because she doesn’t bother with the rest of her lunch either, just tosses the remains of both of theirs away before she takes Tyler by the hand, pulling him out of the restaurant.

They make it inside of the car before Tyler’s reaching for Jenna, reaching for anything, really, but she just so happens to be the closest thing. He gasps out a sob as she pulls him in, body shaking as all of the emotions he’d tried to suppress over the past few weeks rush to the surface, breaking within his chest like a twig. He’s sure she’s talking to him, he’s sure that she’s trying to comfort him, but all Tyler can think is that he’d rather be with Josh. _He needs Josh he needs Josh he needs Josh, and Jenna_ isn’t _Josh._ He sobs it against her skin, that _she’s not Josh, that she’ll never be Josh, that he needs Josh more than he needs to breathe_. Jenna lets him cry, she always does, and when there’s nothing left in him, she presses a kiss against his forehead and tells him it’ll be okay. She’ll take him home, and it’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. He notices the huge wet spot against the collar of her shirt, and apologizes immediately for it. Jenna laughs a bit, says that it’s no big deal because she didn’t like the shirt anyways. He knows it’s a lie, because Jenna wears that shirt more often than any other item in her closet, but he lets it slide anyways. It’s for the sake of embarrassing them both.

The drive home is quiet, and Tyler thinks about what Jenna said - it’ll be okay. And for the first time in a long time, as he breathes in the Columbus air rushing in through the open sunroof of her car, he starts to believe it.

+

“I think I want to write a new song,”

It’s a few days later, Tyler’s arm is draped over the back of the couch, and Jenna looks up from where she’s typing on her laptop. She stares at him for a few long moments before her lips quirk in a smile, and she rolls her ankles from where they’re rested on Tyler’s thigh. “I think that’s a great idea,” She says, closing her laptop slightly so she can look at Tyler over it. “Do you want to go to your room?” She asks, and Tyler thinks on it before nodding. His keyboard is there, and he’s sure that getting a song out with it would be better. He only has himself to rely on for the moment being. Jenna pulled her feet from her lap and Tyler stood, making his way towards his bedroom. “Let me know if you need anything,” She called out, and Tyler gave her a slight nod before disappearing behind his bedroom door.

Taking a seat in front of his keyboard, Tyler took a deep breath before grabbing the notebook that was tucked behind it. There were plenty of unfinished songs inside of it, but in one way or another, they were all about Josh. He knew that whatever he was going to start that night was going to be about Josh, too, but he knew better than to reopen the fresh wounds he’d recently began actually closing. The transition between the awful emptiness that he’d been left with for the past few months to the beginning of becoming better had been rough, and god knows where he would be without Jenna having been there to push him forward, but he was on his way and that was all that really mattered.

Tyler had never written a break up song, and he didn’t really plan on writing one either. He knew that no matter what was going to be plastered onto the page by the end of the night would be interpreted to be about Josh, but that still didn’t mean he had to write a breakup song. Before Josh, he’d never written a love song, and though all of the songs he wrote with Josh in mind were never really love songs, this song couldn’t be a breakup song. Tyler knew that much.

Tyler doesn’t know what he wants to write; just knows that when he _does_ start writing, he doesn’t stop until he’s got every verse and every chorus down perfectly. He doesn’t know how long it takes him - ignores the dreary want of sleep that creeps up on him in favor of figuring out the right keys - and he doesn’t care; that seems to be a huge step in the process, just not caring about anything. It takes him forever, or what feels like it, but by the end of the night, Tyler has a rough draft in Garageband that he’s not quite sure what to do with. Usually, at this stage, they go to Josh and they work out the kinks there - find a beat that goes along with the song, and then Tyler touches up his own side of the track before they go to professionally record and mix it. He could send it to Josh still, see if he gets a response, see if Josh is even willing to get back to speaking terms with him. It’s worth a shot, the uncaring side of Tyler says as he gets up to find his computer, and as he opens his email and attaches the .MP3 to it, he decides that it is worth a shot.

He stares at the email for a few long moments, hands hovering over the keys of the keyboard for a few long moments before he finally settles on a message.

 

**TO:** joshuadun@gmail.com

**FROM:** tylerrjoseph@gmail.com

**SUBJECT:** i’ve been working on some things

**ATTACHMENTS:** prove_draft.mp3

 

hey, josh. i know you haven’t heard from me in a while, and i’m not sure if i’m really sorry about that right now, but i just started working on this and i thought that it’s worth a shot to share it with you.

 

feel free to ignore this, honestly, you shouldn’t feel compelled to reply if you don’t want to. i’ll understand. but … this band can’t surprise without you, it can’t survive if neither of us are pulling our weight, you know?

 

anyways. it’s up to you if you want to find something that works with it … just let me know.

 

i hope you’re well, and i hope we see each other soon. tyler.

 

+

Tyler doesn’t check his email for a week. He can’t. After sending it to Josh, he immediately shut off his computer and went to bed, ignoring Jenna as she knocked on his door and asked if everything was alright. She must’ve eventually gotten the hint, because she had gone off to the guest room and Tyler found himself drowning in the thought of Josh scoffing and blowing him off, the thought of Josh reeling just as much as he had been, the thought of accidentally opening new wounds for Josh that he hadn’t meant to.

But a week goes by, because no matter how much he doesn’t want it to, time must go on and so shall he. It’s a Monday, and Jenna had just left for work after eating a quiet breakfast with Tyler, he decides that it’s a better time than ever. He sits himself down on the couch with his laptop, fingers stuttering over the keyboard as he logs into his email. As it loads, he closes his eyes and ignores the thump thump thumping of his heart against his ribs. Opening his eyes, Tyler’s mouth dried at the sight of the (1) beside the PRIMARY box. He clicked it open, and behold was a reply from Josh, clear as day. He opened it eagerly, despite the fact that his chest was screaming for him to take a moment, take a deep breath, do anything that wasn’t immediately check the email. He couldn’t help himself, though.

 

**TO:** tylerrjoseph@gmail.com

**FROM:** joshuadun@gmail.com

**SUBJECT:** hey

**ATTACHMENTS:** prove_drum_draft.mp3

 

hey, tyler.

 

here’s what i came up with for the preview you sent me. i really like this song, it’s very raw and i’m sure that we both know what it’s about, right. this is just a draft, so you can tell me if you want me to change it or if you want me to change the pace or anything for it.

 

i’ve, uh, been waiting to hear from you for awhile. i don’t really know what to say. i’m glad you reached out, and i’m glad that you’ve been okay enough to start writing again. i don’t know if you’ve been on twitter lately, but everyone’s worried about you. about us.

 

mark told me you weren’t doing so well when he saw you before i left for la, and i’m really sorry about that. it would be … really cool to hear your voice. i’m sorry if that’s too soon, but man, it’s been killing me. so, just call if you get a chance. if you want. i’m free whenever.

 

josh.

 

Tyler reads and rereads the email what feels like is a million times before he jumps into gear, before he can let his mind stop him, he dials Josh’s number and waits. It rings for what feels like is forever, and it gives Tyler enough time to doubt calling - gives him enough time to realize that maybe it hadn’t been long enough for him to really get over Josh.

The ringing stops, and Tyler takes a deep breath as he realizes that it’s not sending him to voicemail. That Josh had picked up the phone. “Hello?” He says, tentatively after a moment, and there’s a rustle on the other end of the line before Josh’s voice bleeds through his speaker.

“Hi,”

That’s enough to send the warm sensation that Tyler has always gotten with Josh through his body. It seeps into his skin, drags itself across his ribs, floods itself in the roof of his mouth, pools in the heels of his feet. “Josh,” Tyler says, almost in disbelief, and he can hear Josh laugh a little on the other end of the line. It’s almost as if they’d never broken up, because while there’s awkwardness there, it’s comfortable.

“I thought you’d never call,” Josh says after a moment, and Tyler swallows thick. He doesn’t want to tell Josh that he hadn’t even opened his email in a week, doesn’t want to tell Josh he’d been too afraid of rejection. He _does_ , though; he tells Josh all of that and more, because once he opens his mouth, he can’t stop talking. Josh is mostly silent on the other end of the line as Tyler tells him about how Jenna had been living with him for awhile, strictly platonic of course - as if Josh would’ve cared; he tells him about how that was the first song he’d written in months, how it had been the first time he’d touched his keyboard in months; he tells Josh that he misses him, and it leaves a metallic taste in his mouth when he’s finally able to shut himself up.

“I’ve missed you, too,” Josh finally says, and Tyler can hear how his voice swims between the nerves that have obviously built a home in his chest. “It was a great song, really, I was very impressed. You never fail to impress me,” Josh laughs, and Tyler does too, and he feels a weight being lifted from his chest.

They talk for awhile, mostly about Josh because Tyler had his turn, and all he really cares about is knowing how Josh is, how he’s been doing in their time apart. It’s about the same as Tyler had been, and Tyler’s pretty aware that it isn’t very good, and he’s pretty aware that he misses Josh more than anything in the world. “Are you going to be in Columbus any time soon?” Tyler asks as their conversation takes an awkward dip, and he bites his tongue as soon as he says it. He’s expecting a _no_ , he’s expecting a _I don’t want to see you_ , he’s expecting anything but what Josh actually says,

“I can be there tomorrow if you want me to be,”

Tyler takes a deep breath, because Josh is willing to drop everything to be with him again. _Just like old times_ , he thinks, and immediately regrets it because an aching pain spreads through his chest. “If you’re not busy,” Tyler says, and Josh laughs.

“I’m never too busy for you,”

The pain dulls and fades, soon to the replaced by an excited, anxious feeling.

+

“He’s going to be in town tomorrow,” Tyler says as soon as Jenna walks through the door that night. He’s been anxiously awaiting her arrival home, and now that she’s there, Tyler kind of feels like jumping on her in the same fashion a dog would.

“Who?” Jenna asks as if they both don’t already know who Tyler is talking about, taking her earrings out and placing them on the entry way table, toeing her shoes off as she made her way towards the couch. She took a seat beside Tyler, and he bit his tongue, staring at her for a few long moments.

“Josh,” He says, studying her face carefully as it dropped at the mention of his name.

“How do you know?” She asked, tongue darting nervously across her lower lip. Tyler knew that Jenna was nervous that he knew this information long before she did, long before she had time to prepare Tyler for it.

“I called him. Today.”

“You called him?” Her voice raised as she turned her body more towards Tyler, and he shrunk back, watching her nervously. “What did you say?”

“We just talked,” Tyler rushed the words out, and Jenna looked far beyond stressed at the new information. “I mean, that song I wrote… I emailed it to him a week ago, and he emailed me back asking if I’d call him, and I did, and I told him I missed him, and he told me that he missed me, and we _talked_ , Jenna. I asked if he was coming back to town, and he said he could be here tomorrow, so he’s going to be, and we’re going to see each other, and _oh my god_ , I might throw up,” Tyler spoke quickly, and Jenna sighed, letting her body slump back against the couch.

“Tyler, I don’t know if this is the best idea,” She finally said after a few long moments, and Tyler rolled his shoulders back, trying to get rid of the tension that had buried itself there.

“I don’t know either,” He admits, and Jenna glances over towards him out of the corner of her eye.

“I really hope you know what you’re doing,”

“I have no clue, to be completely honest,”

“Oh, Tyler,”

+

Jenna hadn’t talked to Tyler the night before, hadn’t really talked to him before leaving for work either. Just wished him luck, and told him that no matter what, whenever she’d gotten home that they would talk. Tyler found himself at the airport around eleven in the morning, and Josh’s flight was meant to land any moment. Tyler anxiously wrung his hands out as he stood among the crowd of people also waiting for someone. Tyler let his mind wander about who these people were they were waiting on - were they like him, waiting on a(n ex)lover? Were they waiting on friends, or family members, or coworkers? Were they just waiting for someone, anyone to catch their eye so they could find a new person in their life?

The announcement that Josh’s flight had landed came over the intercom, and Tyler swallowed thick, eyes immediately finding the door to the gate. It felt like years before anyone actually stepped off the flight, and Tyler held his breath as he waited for any glimpse of Josh. Exhaling sharply as he caught sight of fiery red hair, Tyler stood on his toes a bit and waved until he caught Josh’s eye. He knew it was probably embarrassing to the both of them, but he couldn’t care less when he’d noticed the way Josh’s face lit up at the sight of Tyler. They were quick to find each other in the crowd, and Josh wasted no time dropping his carry-on at Tyler’s feet, arms wrapping around his waist and face burrowing itself in the crook of Tyler’s neck - as if they hadn’t gone through a heart-wrenching breakup months before. Tyler relaxed into the grip - he’d been yearning for Josh’s touch for months, and finally, he’d gotten it back. “I thought I’d never see you again,” Josh mutters against his skin, and it settles into Tyler that Josh is here, with his red hair, and his warm eyes, and his light touch. _It’s Josh it’s Josh it’s Josh._

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Tyler says, and Josh laughs a bit, pulling away from him. It feels like all of their tension had resolved itself, all of the times that Tyler had spent pouring his heart and soul out to Jenna over how heartbroken he was, all of the nights where the pain was so sharp and insistent that he couldn’t take it, that he would rather die than deal with the thought of never being around Josh again. It had all settled itself comfortably into Tyler’s bones, dissolving slowly as they stared at each other.

“You are, I was kind of afraid you’d be so mad at me still that you wouldn’t show up,” Josh admits, voice far too quiet and intimate for the two of them to be standing in the middle of a busy airport. Tyler doesn’t say anything, just swallows thick and picks up Josh’s bag, biting his tongue before Josh quickly assures him that it’s all he brought with him - he could only stay in town a few days, before he had to get back to start catching up on meetings and down time, _actual down time_ and not just moping around about Tyler for months.

They’re silent as they go to Tyler’s car, nothing but the chatter of the people around them and their breathing as they get to the parking garage structure, as Tyler puts Josh’s bag in the backseat, as they buckle themselves in and Tyler turns to Josh to ask what he wants, or needs, to do first. As Tyler opens his mouth to speak, Josh leans forward, and suddenly there’s the spark in Tyler’s chest igniting itself hot enough to burn in the pit of his stomach. Josh’s lips are warm against Tyler’s, chapped and slick with spit from when Tyler assumes he must’ve licked his lips before kissing him. _It’s wrong_ , Tyler thinks, _because he spent what felt like fucking eternities screaming and crying and letting his life fall apart all because of Josh, and here Josh is, in his car, with his lips pressed against Tyler’s like it’ll somehow fix the mess that has become of them._

_It does_ , he can’t help himself as he thinks that, _because it does fix it, and it makes him fucking shudder at how much he depends on Josh for all of this shit._ Tyler pulls away after a long moment, staring at Josh from the moment he can force his eyes open, and Josh looks apologetic and sad and he’s saying words that don’t process through Tyler’s brain because he can’t think of anything else other than the fact that he’s been spending god knows how many months wanting to do exactly that again, and now he has, and now he never wants to deprive himself of it again.

“Stop talking,” Tyler’s voice is firm as he speaks, and Josh becomes silence, ducks his head and lets the blush creep awkwardly across his face. Tyler doesn’t think much as he shoves the keys back into the ignition, doesn’t think much as he shifts the gears on the car and gets them as far away from the airport as quickly as possible, doesn’t think much as he pulls up outside of his apartment building - Josh makes a comment about how much he’s missed being there, but Tyler doesn’t care, doesn’t _want_ to care - doesn’t think much as he shoves Josh’s bag into his hand and ushers him into the elevator. They’re both too silent, but Tyler doesn’t want to say anything, doesn’t know what to say. He unlocks the door to his apartment, and steps inside, and in that moment, Tyler realizes how lived in and warm his apartment had become over the past few months. He’d been too blind to notice how hard Jenna had tried to help him, and he really had to thank her for that when he saw her next. For now, though, his mind was focused on something else.

“Where should I put this?” Josh asked, and Tyler took it from him, dropping the bag onto the couch before he cornered Josh between the front door and his own body. Josh stared at him anxiously, and Tyler didn’t really know what he was doing - his brain was on overload, and all he knew was that he wanted to kiss Josh. He wanted to kiss Josh more than anything in the world, wanted to wreck him, tear him apart for ruining Tyler the way he did. He wanted to apologize to Josh, wanted to scream sorrys into the warmth of his mouth, into the dips of his skin. “Tyler, what are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” He says, just like he’d said to Jenna, just like he’d said to Mark, just like he’d said to his mother. “I don’t know, but I know that I’ve missed you more than anything in the entire fucking world, Josh. I’ve spent months crying over you, spent months torturing myself over how I hurt you, spent months wondering if you were okay. Nobody would talk to me about you, even when I started to ask. They brushed me off, they told me that you were okay and nothing else. That killed me, Josh, and I swear I almost died whenever I emailed you. I thought you were going to ignore me, I thought you were going to tell me to fuck off, I thought you were going to do anything but what you did. Jesus, fuck, _I missed you_ ,” Tyler doesn’t give Josh the time to speak, just pushes himself flush against Josh’s body and kisses him, hard and dirty. Josh wastes no time tangling his hands in his Tyler’s hair, twisting his fingers there as Tyler maneuvers his thigh in between Josh’s, letting him rut against him.

Tyler tries not to think about how quickly he was able to fall back into Josh, tries not to think about how much it’ll hurt whenever Josh has to inevitably leave him alone again in whatever state they’re left in. They haven’t discussed it, and Tyler doesn’t really want to discuss it either, doesn’t want to ruin this right now. Maybe later, maybe before Josh leaves, they’ll discuss it. They’ll fight, and scream, and kiss, and fuck, and they’ll do all of the things to rekindle their relationship - whether it be platonic, or romantic. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to know. Not right now.

Tyler breaks their kiss, pulls himself away and presses hot, sloppy kisses along Josh’s jaw until he reaches the underside of his jaw. He sucks, hard, and Josh makes a sound that’s almost pornographic as Tyler works a purple bruise there. “Tyler,” He gasps, hands moving to grip Tyler’s shoulders, and Tyler lifts his head, stares at Josh, and there’s no silence between them as Josh quickly speaks, “ _Takemetoyourbedroom_ ,”

_There’s no time,_ Tyler thinks, and he voices that thought. Josh laughs against his skin, but Tyler presses further against him, letting his fingers spread across Josh’s hips bruisingly hard.

“I want you, right now,” He says against Josh’s skin, and Josh stares, wide-eyed and Tyler thinks he might be a little bit scared. “It’s okay, I just- _I need you_ ,” He says, and Josh nods, bringing Tyler’s mouth back to his. It’s gentler this time, slower than Tyler’s comfortable with, but the way Josh melts beneath him makes it worth it. Tyler moves his hands below Josh’s thighs, pulling them up and around his waist, lets Josh tighten his legs around Tyler’s hips tightly. He pins Josh between the wall and his body, his hips rolling up against Josh. The sound Josh makes above him is delicious, and Tyler’s mouth moves from Josh’s lips to his neck, lapping at the skin there. Josh arches up to meet Tyler’s mouth, and Tyler wants to tell him that he looks so beautiful with his bruised lips, his messy hair, the wild look in his eye that says that he’s been waiting for this just as long as Tyler had been.

They find a steady rhythm against each other after a few long moments, Josh’s hips grinding down to meet Tyler’s as he jerks against him, and it’s easy, it’s so, so easy to Tyler because this is how it’s meant to be. It’s perfect, the way Josh is mewling and whining and telling Tyler that _he needs to be touched, he needs something, he needs everything that Tyler can give him._ Tyler manages to work a hand in between their bodies while steadying the two of them on the wall with the other, messily unworking Josh’s belt and popping the button on his jeans. There’s not much room to work with, but Tyler manages to get his hand beneath Josh’s jeans, beneath his boxers, and Josh is immediately crying out his name. It only takes a few messy thrusts into Tyler’s hand before Josh is coming undone above him, practically crying as his forehead slumps against Tyler’s shoulder and he says _I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry_. Tyler ignores him, mind mutes out the words that Josh is whimpering against his skin as he jerks against Josh, as he lets his lips press against every inch of skin they can find, and it’s delicious and beautiful and Tyler wishes it could be this way forever. He thinks that maybe it can. He thrusts again Josh a few more times until he’s coming with a cry, hips stilling against Josh and _fuck_ , it’s so good.

Neither of them move for a few long moments, though Tyler’s legs are shaking in the same way Josh’s entire body is against his. They just stand in silence, let the solitude of it wash over them before Tyler coughs a bit, nuzzling his forehead against the crook of Josh’s neck. “I just came in my pants like a teenager,” He laughs after a moment, and Josh’s body still shakes, this time with watery laughter.

“So did I,” Josh mutters, and Tyler presses a kiss against his collarbone before he steps back, lets Josh get onto his own feet and they stare at each other for a few long moments. “I missed you, so fucking much,” Josh says, and Tyler bites his tongue.

“You too,” He says, and it suddenly becomes all too real again. He can feel anxiety drag itself through his chest, clawing at his throat, and he wants to throw up, wants to rid himself of this feeling more than anything because Josh is here again, Josh is his again, and that’s really all that matters, but there’s still a sinking feeling there that Tyler’s not sure if he can rid himself of it.

+

Josh is at Mark’s by the time Jenna gets home, and the pent up stress in her body radiates onto Tyler the moment she walks into the apartment. He’s lounging across the couch, thinking and rethinking with every breath he takes, and that finds him with Jenna sitting on his legs, asking how everything went.

“It was so easy to fall back into him,” Tyler says, voice betraying him a bit. It’s breathless, and his eyes don’t meet Jenna’s because he knows that she’s giving him that look. The I told you so one, because of course it is. Josh was his first real love, and it’s so, so easy to fall back into those. “Do you hate me?”

“Why would I hate you, Tyler?” She sounds exhausted, and Tyler finally looks at her, finally realizes that the damage he’d done over the past few months hadn’t just been to himself. It had affected her, too, and that’s why Josh had left in the first place. Because Tyler cared about himself too much, cared about his own feelings until it was too late.

“I put you through hell for like, seven months, and now he’s back. Now he’s here, and you wasted so much time on me, Jenna,” He laughs, and it’s sad, because he’s sort of really sad that he’d treated her this way. That she had to watch him suffer, and suffer along with him.

“I could never hate you,” She replies, voice quiet, and she moves to wrap herself around him like a blanket. Tyler grips onto her, holds her against him like he used to, holds her against him like she’s the best damn thing in the world because she really, truly is. “I love you, Tyler, and to be honest, I knew this was going to happen. I’m glad you’ve made up with him,” She mutters, though her voice slightly betrays her words. He appreciates the sentiment either way. “Where is he, anyways?”

“Mark’s,” Tyler said, “He said he wanted to grab dinner with you, but I told him that you might accidentally like, kick him in the dick if he was here when you got home from work, so he went to Mark’s until I could talk to you about it,”

“That’s fine,” Jenna says sleepily against Tyler’s skin, nodding as she does so. “Where are we going?”

Tyler shrugs, muttering something about how they hadn’t really gotten that far, only as far as to ask Jenna if she even would want to go. “You pick, I’m sure nobody will mind where we end up going.”

“Let’s go to that pizza place that just opened on main,” She says, and Tyler nods, fishing his phone out of his pocket. He shoots Josh a text, telling him to meet them there in twenty minutes, before he pats Jenna’s back and tells her that they have to get going. Tyler’s not sure if she doesn’t speak the entire car ride because she’s tired, or because of the fact that she has to see Josh again, and as much as Tyler hadn’t been prepared to see Josh again, he’s sure Jenna feels the same way tenfold.

They get there after Josh and Mark do - honestly, fuck Columbus traffic - and Tyler lets Jenna hold his hand protectively as they make their way inside. They’re all crammed into a booth at the back of the packed restaurant, and no one says much for a few, long and awkward moments. It’s obvious that they’re waiting for Jenna to acknowledge Josh, or maybe it’s the other way around, and she does after she catches the stare Tyler’s giving her. It’s practically a plea, because he’s forgiven Josh and now it’s her turn. “It’s nice to see you again,” She finally says, voice gentle as she speaks to Josh.

They give each other awkward and tired smiles, and Josh replies, “I’ve missed you, you look good, Jenna,” She laughs a bit, brushing him off. The conversation flows easily after that, seeing as that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. They eat and they laugh and it’s so easy, and Tyler can’t remember the last time he ever felt so alive. Josh gives him a private, crinkly eyed smile, whenever Jenna and Mark start fighting over who gets the last slice of the pizza. He’s happy, and Josh is happy, and Jenna’s happy, and Mark’s been happy throughout this whole thing, and to Tyler, everything is okay. It’s not fixed, not yet, because the loneliness and dreariness has burrowed itself so far into his chest that he thinks that maybe he’ll never get rid of it; he’ll never stop being broken hearted over it even if Josh is back, but he’s on track to being fixed or, at the very least, feeling fixed. That’s all that matters.

+

Josh goes back to LA after a few days, because he has to, but he comes back. He always will, he promises Tyler that when Tyler’s got his mouth around his dick and his fingers are yanking and pulling at his hair in a way that brings tears to Tyler’s eyes in more ways than one.

He leaves, and he returns, and sometimes Tyler gets off his ass and flies to LA, spends his entire weekend in Josh’s bed because they’ve got months to make up for, and they do. Tyler gets back online - assures their fans that _no, he’s not dead,_ and _yes, the time he needed away was necessary._ He answers no other questions, tweets out song lyrics of things he’s writing with or about Josh, about his life, about Blurry. Tyler slowly becomes Tyler again; slowly becomes the oil that rises to the surface of the water, takes life head on. Tyler and Josh don’t talk about it - they don’t really need to, because they know the moment they do, that’s the end of it again, and that’s fine. It’s fine because there’s no end this time - they both know it, because there _can’t_ be.

Jenna doesn’t leave - becomes Tyler’s roommate permanently, because he still has days when he feels like he’s sinking, and he feels like Josh is drifting away from him, he feels like his entire life is drifting away from him, and she keeps him grounded like an anchor. She helps him come to terms with it all, helps him work on reaching out to others, helps him get out of his own head. Tyler tells her he loves her every day, makes sure she knows that he means it.

Tyler breaks the surface and reaches out to Josh, reaches out to their fans, reaches out to everyone he can get his hands on because it’s real again, and he’s not collapsing in on himself like he had been before. Tyler and Josh slowly become Tyler and Josh again, slowly find their way back to slow kisses in their bunks on tours - which they plan again, a small one at first, and it brings Tyler back to life again, reminds him of why he’s still breathing; they find their way back to messy handjobs just before a show; they find their way back to laughing at stupid jokes during interviews, and sharing candy, and finding any and every reason to be next to or on top of each other.

In some ways, Tyler’s thankful for it. Thankful that Josh had torn him apart so recklessly, had taken every cell in his body and ruptured it until Tyler couldn’t take it, couldn’t take the pressure of it all. He’s thankful because it brings him back to reality, brings him back to good songwriting and screaming, brings him back to loving Jenna, brings him back to loving Mark, brings him back to loving his family and his friends and his fans, and more importantly, brings him back to loving _Josh_.

He’d been right - nothing stayed the same forever. Life always zagged when Tyler zigged, always took him two steps forward and thirty steps back, always pushed him further and further until it broke him and he had to repair himself, had to have everyone help repair him if he couldn’t do it. He’d been right because it had emptied his soul, emptied his brain, emptied every pit of him that he could never realize was even there, and it changed it, became something better and stronger, became something that he could hold onto when he had nothing else left in him, no fight left in his bones. He’d be right - there was always that heartbroken, dull pain in his chest that lingered even on the best of days; Josh would smile, and Tyler would be reminded that this could crumble beneath their feet at any moment, and this time around _he’d fix it he’d fix it he’d fix it_. He’d been right - he can’t lose Josh again, can’t lose himself into the despair that had come with it, can’t lose the ground beneath his toes.

Sometimes things bent so far they had to break, but that didn’t mean they were unfixable, Tyler realizes as Josh presses his lips against Tyler’s wrist, as Josh’s arms wrap around his waist and his head tucks into the crook of his neck, as Josh becomes part of Tyler again, the part of him that he’d wished he’d never lost in the first place. It’s okay, though, because he has it now - he has that part of him again, he has Josh again, he has the warm feeling that runs through his veins like the sun streaks between the blinds, he has what he’d been missing for months. It’s okay.

Jenna was right from the beginning - it was going to be okay.

And, eventually, it was.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i don't really know. all i really know is that i'm sad, and i wrote this instead of studying for my french and algebra finals on tuesday. 
> 
> kudos & comments if you liked? please? 
> 
> also i promise i have some better things coming - i've got two cool au's that i'm trying to finalize and write out, so maybe those will be floating around soon (also, do you prefer chaptered fics, or to read all of it in one go? i prefer one go, but i'll chapter longer stuff from now on if that's what you guys prefer). 
> 
> hope y'all are well, and that you liked whatever ... this ... was. <3


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